


cognatio multum potest

by leov66



Series: facilis descensus averno [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, enjolras why are you like this, enjolras worries about the future, mentions of depression, non artist grantaire because fuck you, something we all relate to dont we
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-23
Packaged: 2018-12-19 04:40:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11890224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leov66/pseuds/leov66
Summary: He's fine with that, actually. He fights, takes part in Council meetings, translates books with Combeferre, teaches young Shadowhunters and somewhere in-between all of this, he's dating Grantaire-He's dating Grantaire. He knows that, because Grantaire calls him his boyfriend and he sleeps at his flat often enough to have his own drawer full of clothes, a toothbrush in the bathroom, books and weapons strategically hidden all over the place.it's beautiful and good when enjolras comes to a realisation he might not yet be ready for.





	cognatio multum potest

**Author's Note:**

> SO BIG SHOUTOUT TO MY[BETA AND FRIEND ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecayingPapers/profile) IM SO SORRY 4 THE ANGST
> 
> by the way you should catch up with the series to get the full Experience. if u have, welcome and enjoy the ride i guess.

 

Enjolras hasn't considered love in the long run. Living a lifestyle that required risking your life on the daily basis has made him keep his mind on only the most important things, none of which happen to be the future. He's fine with that, actually. He fights, takes part in Council meetings, translates books with Combeferre, teaches young Shadowhunters and somewhere in-between all of this, he's dating Grantaire-

 

He's dating Grantaire. He knows that, because Grantaire calls him his boyfriend and he sleeps at his flat often enough to have his own drawer full of clothes, a toothbrush in the bathroom, books and weapons strategically hidden all over the place. It's wonderful, really, they make pasta together, watch shitty movies (apparently Enjolras' lack of knowledge about _Galactic_ _Wars_ or whatever it is appears to be worse than a war crime) and bicker about classical literature (actual classics, like Ovidius, not that pretentious crap Mundanes seem to care about).

 

Of course, it's not perfect because nothing is perfect. They argue, and Enjolras quickly learns that, one, their arguements aren't the same as the ones he has with Combeferre and he needs a different approach, and two, compromise is key.

 

"Drop that tone, Enjolras, you're only making this worse. You might be part angel or whatever in the fuck's name you say it is, but in this relationship we're equal and right now you're going to listen to what I say."

Enjolras knows it's serious, because Grantaire's arms are crossed and he's got that 'I'm angry and you know it's your fault' expression.

 

"I get it, you and your friends need to save the world and kill bad guys, but you knew it was important for me, for _us_. I didn't work my ass off for more than two weeks just to get that particular evening off for you to fucking text me you won't make it at ten in the-"

 

"If you put it like that, what even is the point of dating you? How can I ever be certain you would be there when I need you?"

 

There's something deeper than just anger in Grantaire's words this time. It's an issue neither has spoken up about despite the fact that they've been dating for two years now, although it must've crossed their minds numerous times already.

_What's the point of dating you?_

 

Enjolras goes silent. He wishes he had a coherent answer to that. The truth is, he's forgetful when it comes to the most basic things, too impulsive for his own good and jealous. He's nowhere near perfect, but for Grantaire, he tries his best. He writes things down and has post-it notes all over his room in the Institute, attempts to control his temper and meets up with his boyfriend's friends (who have become _his_ friends along the way) to understand why Grantaire acts the way he does sometimes. Of course it doesn't always work, because they're only human, but most of the time it's better than anything he's ever known.

 

That's what worries him.

 

"I know I've said that before, but I'm terribly sorry, 'Taire. And I know it won't make anything better, but there's nothing else I could possibly say."

 

"You're right, there isn't. Look, I try, I really do. You've got your angel duties, and I've got grad school and work, but where I make time for us, you don't. And that's not okay."

 

"You knew it was going to be this way when we started dating. You knew I wouldn't always be able to be there. I try, too, but it's not that easy. They needed me there." 

 

In that exact moment, Enjolras can see he's gone too far. It's obvious in the way Grantaire's shoulders sink and the last sparks of anger in his eyes disappear.

 

"Surprisingly or not, _I_ needed you here. Don't you think it's kinda shitty to spend an anniversary alone because your boyfriend couldn't even text you earlier that he's not coming?"

 

He doesn't say anything, doesn't even know what he could say. The guilt settles itself deep inside his stomach.

 

"It's always going to be like this, isn't it? _Cognatio multum potest_ ," Grantaire adds with a sad smile. It looks horrible, as if he wasn't even attempting to fight it, as if he was just willing to accept it.

 

Enjolras clenches his teeth and tries to collect himself before he speaks. It doesn't come easily, but he knows he has to remain as calm as possible in order not to fuck up even more.

 

"I love you, 'Taire, you know I do. But sometimes there's only so much I can plan before everything goes to shit and I just have to go. I'm Nephilim and this is the price I pay. The price the both of us pay. And I'm so, so sorry about our anniversary, dear, I really am, and I want to make it up to you."

 

He reaches out hesitantly and touches Grantaire's shoulder. When there's no reaction, Enjolras' hands cup his face, long, slender fingers hardened from hours upon hours of training against warm and soft skin.

 

"You're gonna be the death of me one day, I swear," Grantaire sighs and wraps his arms around him. They stay like that for some time, and at some point the Shadowhunter can feel his boyfriend finally relaxing into his arms. 

   
Almost four hours later, with all the laundry folded and the dishes from their (kinda miserable because _hey you're good at kicking ass and I'm good at remembering stuff but neither of us can really cook, huh_ ) dinner washed, they can finally relax and pretend to watch a movie while spontaneously making out and pausing the movie to laugh at the actors' facial expressions. 

"Think you could get 'Ferre to lend some more books to me? I'm stuck with that paper I've already told you about and could use some help," Grantaire says, playing with Enjolras' hair as the blond ignores him promptly, choosing to text his _parabatai_ instead of paying attention to the shitty movie and his boyfriend.

 

"Sure thing, he says hi, by the way. And that I've left that hoodie in his room at the Institute, thank fuck, I was afraid I'd lost it somewhere," Enjolras replies without even looking up. "He wants to meet up for brunch at eleven tomorrow, is that okay with you?"

 

"Yeah, I'll just set an alarm clock."

 

It's hard for Enjolras to think about the future without Grantaire with it at that point and it terrifies him, truly. He remembers late night talks with Combeferre,  reading the Codex, being terrified of what he finds there.

 

_"To be able to marry a mundane, a Shadowhunter will have to leave the Clave and become a mundane, stripped of their marks."_

 

He remembers ice in his blood, his heart skipping a beat. _How could a Shadowhunter be stripped off his marks? Aren't they like tatoos- oh my God, no, Combeferre, tell me I'm wrong about this._

He remembers not being able to imagine what that would look like. He remembers tossing in his bed for hours. He remembers the first time he kills a demon and every single time after that and thinking _do humans scream like that too when they're- no don't think about it just don't_. He remembers helping badly injured Shadowhunters and their deafening screams when they try to save their lives and knowing _that's it that's the one_ and being terrified of what's going on inside his head.

_"However, this can be avoided if the prospective mundane lover Ascends to become a Shadowhunter."_

Relief, but not quite. Relief, but-

 

" _Adults could either be unaffected by the process entirely or killed outright, and it mostly works on children."_

  
The words ring in his head even now as he lies with Grantaire, Grantaire who doesn't always laugh but when he does, it's the purest sound, Grantaire who can't draw to save his life but recites poems and quotes ancient philosophers as if it was the easiest task in the world, Grantaire who once got gum in his hair when he got too drunk and cried when Jehan cut big chunks of it off with their Hello Kitty scissors (it was the funniest thing ever for Enjolras, he just sat in the background and wiped off tears of laughter while recording the whole thing), Grantaire who doesn't believe in God or ghosts or Bigfoot (much to Combeferre's disappointment), Grantaire who gets paper cuts all the time and doesn't own a single packaging of painkillers and forgets to take his medication sometimes and gets anxiety attacks about supposedly minor things when it's a bad day, Grantaire who's so painfully human. Would Enjolras be willing to let him do it? If he did, how did he know it'd work? What if it didn't? What would he even say to his friends, the people who have spent most of their lives with him, knowing it was his fault entirely that Grantaire had died? What if it worked? How would Grantaire react to being forced to kill and kill and kill everyday until he dies in battle or in some different, equally shitty and uncomfortable circumstances? 

The thought of Grantaire, so full of life and kindness and gentleness, whose hands should hold books and flowers, at his side, fighting for his life, covered in black Marks and scars from faded ones over his tatoos, it's too much.

 

"Hey, what's wrong, _ange_?", Grantaire whispers against his neck, the pure love and tenderness almost too good to be real.

 

"I'll be fine."

 

He's not ready. They're only twenty-four, Grantaire still has three more years of grad school ahead of him, the economy is collapsing and he's terrified of the future. They've got time, Enjolras tells himself, knowing all too well a day is going to come when he has to make a choice and every option breaks his heart. 

   
Grantaire doesn't need to know yet, and there's an unspoken fear in the way in the way Enjolras kisses him.

**Author's Note:**

> 1) my tumblr is [euphra-sie](https://euphra-sie.tumblr.com) hmu please
> 
> 2) the work title is from latin and its the best possible translation of 'blood is thicker than water'
> 
> 3) banging pots together **KUDOS AND COMMENTS KEEP AUTHORS MOTIVATED AND VALIDATED!!!!!!!!!!**
> 
> 4) jsyk the excerpts enj thinks of are copied from the shadowhunter wiki so uhh disclaimer?? what is this 2007


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